


Revenge

by ZinniaRoseStark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guilt, Hydra (Marvel), Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Porn With Plot, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Shame, Shameless Smut, Smut, blurred lines, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 22:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10202240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZinniaRoseStark/pseuds/ZinniaRoseStark
Summary: It felt nice, having his hands on her, Cap helpless to watch the whole thing happen. It gave him a new sense of power he’d been craving. America’s hero, the golden boy, helpless for once. He couldn’t save the damsel, even though she wasn’t distressing. Not in this moment, anyways.HYDRA creates a new drug, and Rumlow volunteers to test it...on Captain America and his wife.Very explicit. Not for the faint of heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually wrote this for my friend, and thought I'd post it cause as fucked up as it is, I kinda love it.

Steve couldn’t sleep that night. He was restless, despite Becca sleeping peacefully next to him. Becca was his everything. They'd met by chance at a book store and they'd hit it off from there. If Becca had known he was Captain America before he told her, she gave no sign of it. And that was why he loved her. She treated him like everyone else, not like a hero or a celebrity. She laughed at his jokes, helped him when he was confused by the 21st century and was patient and kind, kind of like his Ma had been. She was a fresh air, and quite honestly the greatest thing that ever happened to him since finding Bucky. 

Bucky was off and married now, somewhere in the tropics with his little wife on their honeymoon, thanks to Stark. Some sort of apology he supposed. He'd payed for Steve's honeymoon as well, sending them off to Europe, at Steve's request. They'd spent two weeks travelling everywhere, Becca eagerly listening to Steve's stories as he told her about the war. Becca loved his stories, and willingly listened whenever he needed to talk. Just another thing he loved about her.  

He watched Becca’s sleeping form next to him, watching the rise and fall of her side as she breathed evenly, fast asleep. She looked like her mother, beautiful olive skin, dark curls framing her face. She was unbelievably beautiful, and he was so lucky to call her his. 

He watched her for a few more minutes, before sliding out from under the covers, heading to the kitchen to make some warm milk. His Ma used to make it for him when he was sick and couldn’t sleep. And then Becca took that up as well. But she was sleeping peacefully, and he wasn’t about to take that from her. 

You would think with his enhanced hearing, he would have known there was someone else in the apartment with them. But this person knew exactly what he was doing, knew where to step, where to stand to stay out of Steve’s line of sight. In fact, Steve had no idea there was someone creeping up behind him, until the metal bar hit him in the back of the head, hard enough to send him dazed to the floor. The figure stood over him, tall, male, but it was dark, and his vision was blurry. 

“Sorry, Cap. But you made me do it.” 

Everything went dark. 

Brock Rumlow knew the layout of their apartment like the back of his hand. He’d spent countless nights there with Cap, drinking and forgetting everything that had happened on their latest missions. He even knew where the spare key was. So, when he thought it was the perfect time to extract his revenge, he was well prepared. He knew Cap was a light sleeper, even without his enhanced hearing. So he was extra careful to stay silent as he moved around the apartment, waiting for the right moment to strike. And that moment came sooner than he’d thought. 

Cap padded out in nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants. God how he hated that perfect figure. All smooth skin and chiseled, defined muscle. He wasn’t bad himself, but his scars stayed. The burns on his face and his skin from where the Triskelion had dropped on him. Everyone was jealous of Steve Rogers, but Brock hated him. That’s why he took this mission he would have otherwise scoffed at. Steve didn’t deserve happiness with his newly found wife. He didn’t deserve happiness at all. Steve made for the kitchen, not spotting Rumlow’s figure hidden next to the lamp in the living room by the window. The shadows hit at just the right spot, keeping him hidden. He moved forward as Steve put his glass of milk in the microwave, the hum of the machine hiding any trace of sound from his boots on the hardwood. This was all too easy. Which just made it more fun for him. 

He knew one hit wasn’t going to do it, but he put all his anger into that hit, Cap going down, his eyes dazed as he tried to see the figure over him. Brock glowered down at him, sick of his perfect, angular face. 

“Sorry, Cap. But you made me do it.” 

Rumlow swung the pipe again, knocking Steve out. He knew it wouldn’t last long, but it would give him just enough time. Rumlow moved from the kitchen down the hall, the pipe still in hand. He knew he wouldn’t need it, but he couldn’t risk waking the sleeping dragon before it was done. The bedroom door was cracked. It must be Christmas. He opened the door slowly, avoiding any creaks as he slipped in, moonlight illuminating the sleeping figure. 

He slipped around the bed, sliding in next to the figure, spooning behind her. She groaned slightly, pressing back behind him, her ass grinding against his pelvis. This was going to be easier than he thought. He couldn’t help himself as he ran his fingers up her side, trailing over her arm. Her skin was so smooth, so soft. He bet all of her felt this way. He ran his hand up her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. She groaned again, goosebumps forming on her skin. He smirked as she pressed back further against him. 

“Wakey, wakey, Becky.” His hand covered her mouth. “It’s time for your surprise.”

She was awake in a second, screaming against his hand, trying to wiggle out of his arms, but he overpowered her easily. She was forced under him, his legs on either side of her, his feet keeping her legs still, his upper half keeping her pressed into the mattress as he pulled her pajama bottoms down slightly. He grabbed the syringe from his pocket, taking the cap off with his teeth before jamming the needle into the soft, supple flesh of her bottom. 

He had to hold her for a few moments, before it kicked in and she went limp under him. It would take a few minutes to really hit her system, so he moved off of her, sticking the syringe in his other pocket. He moved back into the kitchen, dragging Steve to the bed. God he was heavy. He needed to lay off the protein. He got Steve on the bed next to his wife, using the super magnet cuffs to attach him to the headboard. Good ‘ole Cap wasn’t going anywhere. 

He moved the chair from the corner of the room, sitting it next to the bed where Cap could see, and he sat down, waiting for the drugs to take effect, and for Cap to wake up. If he timed it right, it should happen around the same time. 

Becca stirred first, groaning. She was hot all over, her clothes feeling like they were constricting her. At first she thought it was a fever, until she felt the wetness between her thighs. There was a deep, aching in her core and she needed it fixed. Now. She sat up, blurry eyed and panting, a sheen of sweat on her skin. 

“There she is. How do you feel, Becky?” 

She groaned, reaching for something, anything. She wanted out of her clothes, and she wanted...needed something inside her. She tugged at her shirt, wanting it off, but hands stopped her. Rough hands she wanted everywhere. She didn’t know who it was and she didn’t care. She wanted those hands on her body. 

Cap started to groan, waking up from his unconscious state, so Rumlow got Becca on her feet, moving her over to where Steve could see. She pushed back against him as he moved his hands up and down her sides. Damn he was getting hard already, like some prepubescent middle schooler. 

It took a few moments, but his eyes finally opened, his sight blurry for a few moments. He couldn’t remember what happened. He remembered he couldn’t sleep, and so he’d gotten up and went for warm milk when...something had hit him. Someone. His gaze snapped to the side of the bed where Becca usually slept, only to find it empty. Panic filled him and he tried to move his arms, but found them stuck. He pushed, pulled, tried to break the bonds with his strength, but he couldn’t. 

“No amount of power’s gonna break those, Stevie.”

Dread filled him. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Rumlow. He glanced to the side, Rumlow standing there, Becca pressed against his chest, a dazed look in her eyes. He could see the movement in her hips as she pushed back against Rumlow, his hands moving under her shirt. 

“Rumlow. Get your hands off her.” 

“Why? It’s not like she’s objecting.” He smirks, nipping at her ear, eliciting a moan from Becca. “In fact I think she likes it.” 

“Please.” It was breathy and quiet, but both men caught it. Rumlow with his proximity, and Steve with his enhanced hearing. 

“See, she’s even asking for it.” Rumlow’s smirk widens at the stricken look on Steve’s face. 

“What did you do to her?” 

“Nothing she doesn’t want to happen. And the best part? You’re gonna watch.” 

Rumlow gripped her shirt in his hands, tearing it down the front. Steve winced, looking up at the ceiling, despite the sight being nothing new to him. He felt the bed dip a little, the sound of the safety on a handgun being clicked off meeting his ears. He couldn’t help his eyes snapping back to Rumlow and Becca. She was bent over the bed, Rumlow pressed up behind her, the barrel of his gun lost in her curls.

“Ah, ah, ah. Eyes up here Cap, or I blow her brains out.” He smiles sadistically. “I told you, you were gonna watch.” 

Rumlow’s free hand tugs Becca up so she’s facing Steve, his hand travelling down her stomach and into her pants. 

“She’s so wet already, Cap. Can’t wait for me to fuck her senseless.” 

Steve jerked again, desperately trying to get out of his restraints. Rumlow chuckled at his pathetic attempts. Her moan as he slips a finger into her heat was music to his ears as she pressed her hips back against the tent in his pants. He holstered the gun again, using his now free hand to cup a breast in his hand. 

“She’s so soft and supple. Now I know why you chose this one.” 

It felt nice, having his hands on her, Cap helpless to watch the whole thing happen. It gave him a new sense of power he’d been craving. America’s hero, the golden boy, helpless for once. He couldn’t save the damsel, even though she wasn’t distressing. Not in this moment, anyways. 

“Please….please…” She was begging again. 

“You hear that, Cap? What do you want, princess?” 

“Please...please fuck me!” 

“If you want it that bad, I guess I’ll just have to oblige.” 

Rumlow dropped her on the bed, undoing his belt, his pants dropping around his ankles with his boxers, before he sat in the chair, yanking Becca into his lap. Steve fought again, his wrists raw as Rumlow adjusted Becca so she was straddling his hips, his other hand jerking his length. Rumlow’s eyes never left Steve’s face as Becca pushed down onto his length, sinking into his lap. Her head fell back as she moaned, her hands gripping Rumlow’s shoulders, his own lips parting in a groan. She was wet and tight and warm. Fuck, he had to squeeze the base of his cock so he didn’t cum right there. It had been too long, and the thought of being inside Cap’s little bitch was almost too much. 

Becca started moving, rolling her hips in his lap. Rumlow’s hands gripped her hips, helping her move. 

“You see that, Cap? You see me in your little wife? She likes it, don’t you, princess?” 

“Fuck, yes! You feel so good!” She moaned, moving faster. 

Rumlow smirked at the stricken look on Cap’s face, watching his wife willingly fuck him, out of her mind with need. That feeling swelled again, that power rising in him. It made him want to bust a nut right there, but he wasn’t done yet. Oh no, he was just getting started. 

His eyes focused on Steve’s face as Becca continued to bounce on his lap, Rumlow biting at her neck, leaving marks on her olive skin. When he felt her close, he lifted her, pulling her off his length. He bent her back over the bed, at an angle so Cap could watch him slide into her. Rumlow grabbed a handful of her hair, turning her face to the side as he started to fuck her. 

“I want you to watch him as you cum. Let him see what I do to you.”

He started pounding into her, her body moving, the bed creaking with every thrust. Her breasts were bouncing with every movement, wanton moans nearly screams as he hit her spot over and over. He felt her walls flutter around his length as she came, gripping him like a vice, a moan leaving him as he released inside her, his hips stilling as he filled her with his cum. His eyes never left Steve’s face, pride welling in him at the Captain’s defeated face. 

“Don’t look so down, Cap. The night is young.” He slipped out of Becca, letting her collapse against the bed as he grabbed the second syringe from his pocket. “We’ve still got plenty left to do.” 

Steve struggled, wanting nothing more than to break the cuffs and strangle Rumlow right then and there. But he was helpless as Rumlow pulled his flannel’s down, injecting the drug into him as well. His vision blurred, his head swimming as the drug hit his system. He suddenly felt hot, his pants too much and he itched to be naked. Rumlow’s face appeared over him again, still smirking as he worked Steve’s pants off, tossing them on the floor. 

He had an impressive length. It appeared the serum did really enhance everything. So many thoughts were running through Rumlow’s head as he looked between Becca and Steve. How that monster fit inside his tiny little wife had Rumlow’s cock twitching again. But his time was over. Now it was theirs. 

He pulled Becca up, slipping a hand between her thighs. She was still wet, aside from his cum that was still leaking out of her. He moved her over Steve, lining his cock up with her heat. He couldn’t help but give it a few experimental tugs.  _ His  _ hand barely fit around it. The thought of her trying to deepthroat that thing was giving him more ideas, and making him hard again. But he was done. His work was almost finished. 

He pushed Becca down onto Steve’s length, working it into her, moving her until she couldn’t take anymore, before letting her go, letting her move on her own. Steve was a moaning mess already, no longer defeated or stricken. Just drunk off lust and need. Rumlow watched them for a while, watched how they moved, listening to their moans, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. He almost hated to ruin it, but that’s what he did. He ruined things. Like he was about to ruin them. 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a third syringe. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Becca’s shoulder. “Enjoy, princess.” He injected her with the antidote, before reaching up, undoing the magnetic cuffs from around Steve’s wrists. 

In a flash Steve had his hands on her hips, thrusting up into her as he grunted. Now that’s what Rumlow wanted to see. America’s virgin wasn’t so prude after all. There was an animal behind that cheesy smile and patriotism. If only America could see him now. 

Rumlow left them as the antidote started to work through Becca’s system, her mind clearing, the need subsiding. She became aware of the wetness between her thighs, and her husband pistoning into her. She gasped, confused and achy, her nails digging into Steve’s chest. 

“Stevie? Steve...stop. Please.” 

Her only response was an animalistic growl, and his continued thrusts. She couldn’t deny the feeling though, his length stretching her, hitting the spot that made her see stars. She cried out as she came suddenly, waves of pleasure washing over her, but Steve didn’t stop. Not when she asked, or tried to get him to let her go. She wiggled in his grip, trying to pry his hands off her waist, but his grip only tightened, bruising her, making her cry out again. 

“Steve, please! Stop!” She sobbed, desperate. She was oversensitive, and he was hurting her. This wasn’t like him. Not at all. 

She desperately tried to free herself, but all Steve did was flip her over, trapping her between his body and the mattress. She couldn’t fight him. She didn’t stand a chance. She prayed maybe if he found his release he’d stop, so she succumbed to the feeling of him inside her, and came again, Steve’s hips stuttering as he released inside her. 

She tried to move as he stilled, hot spurts reaching deep into her core, but he wouldn’t relent. He started moving again, and she realized he never went soft inside her. He was still rock hard and in some sort of trance. 

No matter how many times she begged, pleaded, cried, scratched, bit, hit him he didn’t stop. Becca lost all sense of time; it was day, the sun shining through the window, but Steve was still mindlessly fucking her. He’d came so many times, she didn’t understand how he had anything left. She was raw and swollen and aching and she wasn’t sure entirely what the wetness between her thighs was anymore. Her face was puffy from tears and her head hurt, her throat raw. She was exhausted, and she had lost the will to fight. 

Finally after what felt like days he stilled over her, and she realized he hadn’t cum inside her. He was suddenly ripped out of her heat, making her cry out. She looked to him, and found him on the floor, staring at her in shock and confusion. The same way she’d felt when she’d come out of the daze. But there was also terror on his face. She looked down, blood seeping from between her legs and she tried to move, but the aching pain between her legs stopped her. She was cramping, and it felt like the first time they’d had sex after the serum. She was no virgin then, but it sure felt like it. And it felt like it now. Becca collapsed back on the bed, crying out in pain from her attempted movement. Steve got up, mumbling and fretting, and he moved to help her. 

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t know she had any left. 

Steve looked like he’d been smacked. He had been, in all sense of the word. He couldn’t even process what had happened, his mind racing like his heart. 

“I-I’m gonna call the others...Nat...Bruce...s-someone.” He stumbled around the bedroom, trying to orient himself, find his phone...pants. And pants. 

His hands were shaking as he picked up his phone, dialing the first number he saw, Nat. She’d know what to do. She could help. He didn’t remember what had happened...he didn’t remember anything since...he went to get milk last night. Oh god everything came rushing back. Rumlow. He’d done this to them. 

Nat was over in record time when she heard what had happened. She’d brought Bruce and Sam, Sam keeping Steve in the living room as Nat and Bruce tried to help Becca. He could hear her whines of pain, the look on her face when he’d come back to stuck forever in his mind. He’d hurt her. Badly. He didn’t know how he’d ever recover from this. 

Eventually, Sam had said. But he wasn’t sure either of them could wipe this from their minds. They’d forever hold this with them, whether they were still together after this or not. They’d carry this. Some part of them would always remember, even when it faded from their memory. 

But the video camera hidden on the shelf across from the bed said otherwise. 


End file.
